One Night at the Call Center Read online

  I held her tight and felt her body shake. I thought hard about what I could say. Guys can never figure out what to say in such emotional moments and always end up saying something stupid.

  “Your mother is crazy …”

  “Don't say anything about my mother. I love her. Can you just listen to me for five minutes?” Priyanka said.

  “Of course. Sorry …,” I said as her sobs grew louder. I swore to myself to stay quiet for the next five minutes. I started counting my breath to pass time. Sixteen a minute is my average; eighty breaths would mean I had listened to her for five minutes.

  “We weren't always like this. My mum and I were best friends once—until class eight I think. Then as I became older, she became crazier,” she said.

  I wondered if I should point out that she had just told me not to call her mum crazy. However, I had promised myself I would keep quiet.

  “She had different rules for me and my brother, and that began to bother me. She would comment on everything I wore, everywhere I went, whereas my brother … she would never say anything to him. I tried to explain it to her, but she just became more irritating, and by the time I reached college I couldn't wait to get away from her.”

  “Uh-uh,” I said, calculating that almost half my time must have passed. My leg was cramping. When sex is over, being in a confined space is a pain.

  “All through college I ignored her and did what I wanted. In fact, this whole don't-care phase was born out of that. But at one level I felt so guilty. I tried again to connect with her after college, but she had a problem with everything: my thinking, my friends, my boyfriend.”

  The last word caught my attention. I had to speak, even though only fifty-seven breaths had passed.

  “Sorry, but did you say boyfriend?”

  “Well, yeah. She knows I'm with you. And she has this thing about me finding someone settled.”

  Settled? The word rewound and repeated itself in my head several times. What does that mean anyway? Just someone rich, or someone who gets predictable cash flows at the end of every month. Except parents do not say it that way because it sounds like they're trading their daughter to the highest bidder, which in some ways they are. They don't give a damn about love or feelings or crap like that. “Show me the money

  and keep our daughter for the rest of your life.” That's the deal in an arranged marriage.

  “What are you thinking about?” she said.

  “I'm a loser according to your mum, aren't I?” I said.

  “That's not what I said.”

  “Don't you bring up Bakshi and my promotion every time we have a conversation?” I said, moving away.

  “Why do you get so defensive? Anyway, if Bakshi doesn't promote you, you can look for another job.”

  “I'm tired of job hunting. There's nothing good out there. And I'm tired of rejections. Moreover, what is the point of joining another call center? I'd just have to start as a junior agent all over again—without you, without my friends. And let me tell you this, I may not be team leader, but I am happy. I'm content. Do you realize that? And tell your drama-queen mum to come and tell me to my face that I'm a loser. And she can send you off with whichever fucking settled-annuity-income earner she likes. I am what I am,” I said, my face beetroot-red.

  “Shyam, please can you try and understand?”

  “Understand what? Your mother? No, I can't. And you can't either, but I suspect deep down you might agree with her. Like, what am I doing with this loser?” I said.

  “Stop talking nonsense,” Priyanka shouted. “I just made love to you, for god's sake. And stop using that loser word,” she said and burst into tears again.

  Two brief knocks on the window disturbed our conversation. It was Vroom, and Esha was standing next to him.

  “Hello? I thought we came together. You love birds are inseparable, eh?” he said.

  Chapter 13

  12:45 a.m.

  THE LOUD RING OF THE LANDLINE telephone brought me back from 32nd Milestone. Priyanka grabbed the phone. “Hiiiii, Ganesh,” she said, her stretched tone too flirty, if you ask me. But then who the hell cares for my opinion anyway?

  I wondered what his tone was like. Get under the table. Tap the phone, Shyam, a voice told me. I immediately scolded myself for such a horrible thought.

  “Of course I knew it was you. No one else calls on this emergency line,” Priyanka said and ran her fingers through her hair. Women playing with their hair while talking to a guy is an automatic female preening gesture; I saw it once on the Discovery Channel.

  “Yeah,” Priyanka said after a few seconds, “I like cars. Which one are you planning to buy? … A Lexus?”

  “A Lexus! The dude is buying a Lexus!” Vroom screamed, loud enough for me to understand that this was an expensive car.

  “Ask him which model, ask him, please,” Vroom said, and Priyanka looked at him, startled. She shook her head at Vroom.

  “Let them talk, Vroom. They've got better things to discuss than car models,” Esha said.

  “What color? C'mon, it's your car. How can I decide for you?” Priyanka said as her fingers started playing with the curled telephone wire. Over the next five minutes Ganesh did most of the talking, while Priyanka kept saying monosyllabic yeses or the equivalent.

  Tap the phone, the voice kept banging in my head. I hated myself for it, but I wanted to do it. I wondered when Priyanka would step away from the desk.

  “No, no, Ganesh, it's fine, go for your meeting. I'll be here, call me later,” Priyanka said as she ended her call. I guess Mr. Microsoft did have some work to do after all.

  “Vroom, is the Lexus a nice car?” Priyanka said.

  Vroom was already on the Net, surfing Lexus pictures. He turned his monitor to Priyanka. “Check this out. The Lexus is one of the coolest cars. The guy must be loaded.”

  Priyanka looked at Vroom's screen for a few seconds and then turned to the girls. “He wants me to choose the color. Can you believe that? I don't think I should, though,” she said.

  Vroom pushed himself back in his swivel chair. “Go for black or silver. Nothing is as cool as the classic colors. But

  I'll check out some more for you,” he said. “And tell him the interiors have to be dark leather.”

  Meanwhile, my interiors were on fire. I felt like throwing up.

  I wondered when I could tap the phone. It was totally wrong, and Priyanka and the rest of the girls would probably kill me if they found out, but I had to do it. It was masochistic, but I just had to hear that ass woo my ex-girlfriend with the promise of expensive cars.

  I tried to set the stage so I had an excuse to get under the table.

  “Why have there been no calls in the last ten minutes?” I said. “I should check if the connections are fine.”

  “Leave it alone,” Esha said. “I'm enjoying the break.”

  “Yes, me too,” Radhika said. “And the connection is -fine. Bangalore is just overeager and picking up all the calls.”

  “Bio?” Priyanka said to Esha. It was their code word for a visit to the toilet together for a private conversation.

  “Sure.” Esha sensed the need for gossip and got up from her chair.

  “I'll come too,” Radhika said and stood up. She turned to me: “The girls want a bio break, team leader.”

  “You're all going?” I said, pretending to be reluctant, but secretly thrilled. This was my chance. “Well, OK, since nothing much is happening right now.”

  As soon as the girls were out of sight, I dived under the table.

  “What are you doing?” Vroom said.

  “Nothing. I don't think the connections are firm,” I said.

  “And what the hell do you know about the connections?” Vroom said. He bent down to look under the table. “Tell me honestly what you're doing.”

  I told him about my uncontrollable urge to tap the phone. Vroom scolded me for five seconds, but then got excited by the challenge and joined me under the table.